At the End of the Day
by skygirl55
Summary: What if New York City was subject to another terrorist attack and Beckett became one of the first responders? Set Season 4, one week after 4x07 Cops and Robbers.
1. Chapter 1

_This story will have 4 parts._

* * *

**Part One **

They were together when it happened.

That ordinary Wednesday in the first week of November began as nondescript as any other. With clear skies letting the late autumn sun kiss the earth and a light breeze to dance through everyone's hair it seemed almost idyllic. In fact, the only atypical thing about that day was the weather report: the high temperature that day was predicted to inch towards the seventy degree mark, which was welcome by pretty much everyone in the city. After the end of October brought a fortnight of highs barely reaching the fifties, one last little glimpse of late summer was just what New York needed.

Clad in sandals and shorts, children scurried off to school. Men and women in power suits walked to work sans jackets. Castle and Beckett met at the twelfth, where everyone was abuzz about the weather.

"Maybe Jenny and I should go for a walk after work," Ryan mused as they all sipped their coffee. "You know, to enjoy it while it lasts."

"Aww you going to skip and hold hands too?" Esposito joked.

"You're just jealous," Ryan retorted just as easily as ever.

"Of having a ball and chain strapped to my leg for the rest of my life?" Esposito made a noise of disbelief. "No way bro. Castle and I are single for a reason."

"Hey!" Castle interjected at the mention of his name. "Leave me out of this. I'm single by choice."

"Me too."

"Yeah, but not your own," Castle informed him with a smile. Kate and Ryan laughed while Esposito flipped him the bird.

"Alright, alright—you ready to go, Castle?" Kate asked her partner before standing and scooping up her take-away cup of coffee.

"Shotgun!" the writer called out as he bounced to his feet.

Ignoring him, Kate looked to the other two members of her team. "You guys are going to follow up with Lanie, right? See if there's an official COD for our vic?"

"You got it," Esposito said. "We'll head over their shortly."

The body that they had discovered late the prior evening belonged to fifty-four year old George Michael (not the celebrity, despite Castle's amusement). Due to damage done by hungry sewer rats, Michael's cause of death was not immediately known. As they did not know much about the victim (he, unlike most of the planet's populous, did not maintain a strong online presence) Castle and Beckett were on their way to interview his next-of-kin: a younger brother named Kenneth.

"Hey can we swing by a Starbucks on the way there?" Castle asked as he tossed his now empty take-away cup into a trash bin on the way to the precinct parking garage.

His partner gazed at him, wide-eyed. "You finished yours already Castle?" Barely one-third was missing from her cup.

He shrugged. "Didn't sleep much last night."

"Visions of criminals dancing in your head?" she mused.

He smiled softly at her. "Nah. Was up late trying to work on my outline for the next Nikki Heat book. I'm having trouble with this one…not sure where I wanna take Nikki and Rook."

Kate eyed her partner skeptically. "So you're making an outline? Don't you usually just…procrastinate and then make stuff up?"

He gave her a pointed look with lips pursed. "Ha-ha." Then, they shared a smile before ducking into her unmarked car.

Per Castle's request, Kate did stop at the next Starbucks they passed which, being that they were in Manhattan, was only two blocks away. She waited in the car while Castle popped on his sun glasses and disappeared into the corner shop. A few minutes later he returned with another large beverage and a muffin. "So what do we know about Kenneth?"

"Not too much. He doesn't have any police records, but according to what I found out he owns a pawn shop in Little Italy and lives above it."

"Ooo a pawn shop!" the writer said gleefully in between bites of muffin. "Love those…you can always find something interesting there."

"To be fair, don't you find something interesting almost anywhere we go?" the detective asked knowingly.

He winked at her and nodded. "You know me well, Detective."

They had traveled no more than three blocks before, as they stopped at a red light, Castle felt a tremor roll under the car. Confused, he looked down at the floor of the vehicle and then back up to his partner, unsure of whether he had hallucinated the incident. When he saw her brow wrinkled, he realized he hadn't. "What was that?"

"Don't know," she replied.

"Do you think something happened on the subway?"

"I'm not sure I-" Her voice cut off when another tremor rolled underneath the car.

"Earthquake?" Castle guessed.

She turned to him with even more creases in her brow. "In the city? I don't think so…"

They waited in silence another thirty seconds until the light turned green. Then, Kate inched the vehicle forward into the almost-gridlocked traffic of a New York City morning shortly before nine a.m. They had rolled forward only about a block when the call came over the radio: all available units to respond to Wall Street.

The dispatcher used several police codes Castle didn't immediately recognize, so he turned to his partner. When he saw how tightly she gripped the steering wheel, his heart clutched in his chest. "What does that mean?" he asked. "Those codes?"

As they were once again stopped in traffic, Kate turned to her partner and said, "Potential threat of terrorism."

"Oh god," he responded quietly.

Any thought of interviewing their victim's brother abandoned, Kate flicked on the lights and siren in her vehicle. Though, given the tight traffic, they did little good to advance their progress. A few taxis moved over and she was able to cross into the next block before another all-call came out over the radio. Within five minutes, police assistance was requested near the World Trade Center memorial and the Empire State Building.

Hearing those key locations, only one thought entered Castle's mind. When he saw the pallid expression of his partner, he knew she had to be thinking the same thing. "Another 9/11?"

She glanced at him briefly and then turned back to traffic. "I don't know," she replied honestly.

Throughout their partnership, they had only had one serious, lengthy conversation about the day etched into American history. It had been just a few months earlier in the weeks leading up to the tenth anniversary of the day. As a decorated cop, Kate was invite to participate in the ceremonies which sparked the conversation about where each of them had been on that fateful day.

At not quite twenty-two years old, Kate had just begun her final year at NYU. She had returned from her summer abroad just a few weeks earlier and was both excited and disappointed to be back on American soil. She'd been up late the night before celebrating a dorm-mate's birthday and thus was still sleeping when the attacks began. Soon, she was awakened by her roommate and, with classes canceled that day, they watched the entire event unfold together on their small dorm-room television.

Castle was not in the city that September day. He was on a book tour on the west coast and was therefore also still asleep. He recounted being awoken by a phone call from his mother saying that she had retrieved Alexis from school and they were making their way home. When he asked why, she told him simply to turn on his television. Though he wanted to return home immediately, due to the disruption in air travel it ended up taking him several days until he reunited with his family.

Like all New Yorkers, they had been affected by the tragedies of the day. True, not as much as those directly involved, or those who had lost immediately family members or friends, but they still lived and worked in the city in the aftermath of the tragedy. Castle saw the terror and fear on the faces of his mother and particularly his daughter, who was only seven at the time. Kate had a classmate whose father died in the South Tower and knew dozens of others with lost or injured loved ones.

As they traveled south on the island, Castle thought back to that September day ten years before. Ironically, it had also been a beautiful, clear-sky day. Now, that bright blue canopy seemed to mock him as one terrifying thought pulsed through his mind: many of the victims that day had been first responders. Police, fire, and rescue crews trying to save innocent victims. People just like Kate.

Though she was zigzagging across various blocks with her sirens on trying to avoid traffic, Castle quickly realized they were not headed towards Wall Street. At least, not directly. When he pointed this out to her, she responded simply, "I'm taking you home first."

His protest was immediate. "What? Beckett, no."

"Castle."

Her tone was not one to argue with, but he did so anyway. "I want to help."

"You can't."

"But I'm your partner!"

"Not today you're not."

Her words hit him like a knife to the heart. He wasn't sure what bothered him more: the chill in her tone or the way she refused to look at him as she said it. He could hardly think of four other words that would have been more offensive to him.

Three and a half years! Three and a half years he was by her side through shootings and chases and even a bomb. In his mind, he had more than proved his value. He was an asset and for her to even think about saying that he was not her partner was an outright insult.

Too furious with her to even speak, Castle seethed in his seat for another half block until she jerked the wheel to the right, pulling the car over just a block away from his apartment. She slammed the vehicle into park, popped the trunk and climbed out. Not a moment later, he chased after her.

"I am your partner Kate and-"

"No, Castle," she shut him down again. That time, she turned to face him when they stood behind her car. "Every other day of the week, you're my partner. I look forward to sharing this car with you—sharing my cases, but not today. Not when they're talking about terrorist threats. I'm sorry, but when it comes right down to it you don't have the training. I have absolutely no idea what I'm going to find down there and…and I don't want you getting hurt."

Her eyes pleaded with him as she spoke, and Castle felt the unpleasant sensation of guilt settle into his gut. Though he loathed admitting it, he knew she was right. He was a smart, quick on his feet, and a fairly decent shot. Over their partnership, he had picked up no small amount of knowledge regarding police procedures and safety, but she was correct in saying he had no formal training. Most days, he liked to think that didn't matter, but that was not turning out to be one of those days.

He knew that every law enforcement officer—Kate included—went through hours and hours of training on responding to suspected terrorist action, which they did for both their safety and for the safety of the citizens of New York. The absolute last thing he wanted to do was put cops or civilians in danger. More so, he did not want to put Kate in any danger.

As Kate pulled out her bullet proof vest from the trunk, she said to her partner, "I want you to go into your apartment and stay inside. Your mother, too. And Alexis—get her home from school."

Castle nodded at her instructions, but felt a led weight form in his gut as he watched her strap on her vest. "Do-do you really have to go down there?"

"Of course," she replied; that wasn't even a question.

He swallowed hard again. He didn't want to say it, but knew it had to be said. His voice a bit weaker, he continued, "But…on 9/11…cops and fire fighters…" He didn't need to finish his sentence. Just looking to her eyes with his fear on display was enough to finish the thought.

Immediately, she pulled her gaze from his. She couldn't look at him looking at her that way; it made her stomach flip even more violently than it already was. Instead, she merely turned back to the contents of her trunk and said factually, "It's my job, Castle."

Fighting the almost overwhelming urge to reach out and touch her, hold her, he said, "You have to be careful, Kate," letting the tone of his voice finish the thought: _I need you to be careful._

"I will."

"I'm serious. If there are bombs or collapsing buildings…" He could see it in his mind's eye. The raw videos from that fateful day that the news channels tactlessly played over and over again. Chaos in the streets. People running everywhere. Clouds of debris overtaking panicking, fleeing pedestrians. Soot covered officers carrying the wounded, some of them bleeding themselves.

To say that the image of Kate as one of those individuals filled Castle's nightmares would be a grand understatement. If he was home in his apartment and saw her battered, wounded face on his television screen, he was sure he wouldn't be able to handle it. And what if her face was among the bodies on the ground? What if this conversation was the last they would ever have?

Suddenly, he was transported back to six months earlier, standing in a graveyard on a warm spring day just moments before the shot from a sniper's rifle rang out. He'd almost lost her then, and what had come of it? They'd spent three of those months apart, and the next three rebuilding their partnership. Not that he regretted any of this. After their conversation on the swing set and subsequent cases together he knew they were stronger than ever, but he couldn't predict the future. He couldn't know what would happen that day. His move would be risky, but it was one he had to make; he wouldn't be able to live with himself if he didn't.

"I'm sorry," he began after several moments of silence.

She glanced up at as she checked the clip in her weapon. Her brow creased. "Sorry? For what?"

He took a step closer to her. "I'm sorry because there are a million better ways for me to tell you this—a million ways I should be telling you this. Less dire. More romantic. More thought out, but I can't miss another opportunity. If something happens to you today and I don't tell you this, I'll regret it for the rest of my life."

She stared at him, not blinking, so he took a deep breath and prepared himself to make a heartfelt confession for the second time. At least this time he could be certain she would remember it.

"I love you, Kate. I've loved you for a while and I need you to know that along with my mother and daughter, you're one of the most important people in my life. I need you to stay safe today. Okay? Please, please stay safe. Because I love you."

For almost a solid minute, Kate stared up at her partner. She couldn't move or speak. She wasn't even sure she was breathing. She was, however, acutely aware of how violently her heart was pounding in her chest.

All her brain could think was: _Now!? He's telling me this now?!_

But how could she blame him? Technically, he had already told her once (though as far as he knew, she still did not recall that incident) and it wasn't as though his feelings for her would have changed. Or would they have? After their summer apart, she wasn't convinced, but now he had provided cold, hard proof. But what was she supposed to say? She wasn't sure she could have formed the words to respond if given a whole day, but with only minutes to spare she surely could not even begin to appropriately explain to him how she felt or the confliction and confusion in her mind. Fortunately, she didn't have to.

Before she could even open her mouth, another call came over the police radio, that one sounding more desperate than the last.

"I…" she finally spoke, her voice barely above a whisper. "I have to go…I'm sorry."

"Yeah," he said, taking a step back from her. "I know."

"Get inside, Castle; please."

He nodded and stepped up onto the side walk. Before taking more than a step away, he turned to her and said, "You'll call me when you can, won't you? I mean, please. So I know you're alright?"

She nodded to him and then hurried back to the driver's seat of her car. She turned over the engine and put the car in gear, watching him walk away until he'd disappeared around the block. Only then did she let out a long exhale and let her head roll back against the headrest.

She could not think about Richard Castle telling her that he loved her. Again. In another time of crisis.

Damn. Why couldn't they just be honest with each other in a normal situation? Oh, that was probably partially her fault. Well, the fault of her walls, anyway. But she didn't have time to think about that. She had to compartmentalize her feelings, lock them away, and focus on the task at hand.

With the sirens on her vehicle at full decibel, she raced through the streets of lower Manhattan along with a squad car she joined up with on Broome Street. Due to the chaos and road blocks, she could only drive within a few blocks of Wall Street. So she decided to ditch her vehicle and walk the rest of the way. Trailing behind two uniforms, she hurried her way down the side street, hand hovering above her service weapon. When she rounded the corner on to Wall, pandemonium erupted.

Kate froze, slack jawed on the street corner gaping at the chaos in front of her. It was so unexpected, so out of control, she could hardly process. If she had to guess, she imagined this scene would not have been unfamiliar to those in Baghdad at the height of the war. Fire. Smoke. Screaming people. Gunfire.

God, why was there so much gunfire?

The uniforms in front of her retreated to their squad car to get tear gas and rifles; she decided to do the same.

After sprinting back to her unit, Kate gathered the necessary items from her trunk, but paused before shutting the lid. She retrieved her phone from pocket, unlocked it, and pulled up her chain of text messages with Castle. Her thumb hovered above the "I" key for several moments, trembling more and more with each passing second.

God damn it, why couldn't she just type those three little words? He had said them to her and she felt them, she knew she felt them but… she couldn't make herself do it. Not even in the wake of chaos. Not yet.

A fool. She was a fool and a coward. At least, when it came to matters of the heart.

Compartmentalize. Compartmentalize, she told herself. She moved her finger to the "Off" button, but frozen again. She couldn't say nothing. Not after what she'd seen. Not when facing the prospect that Castle could be right—that they may not see each other again.

Moving her fingers back to the keypad she typed, "Me too."

It wasn't enough, but it would have to suffice.

Pocketing the device, she slung her shotgun over her shoulder, rounded the corner of Wall Street and entered the fray.


	2. Chapter 2

**Part Two**

For twelve agonizing hours Castle sat holed up in his apartment with his mother and daughter. Their television had been on continuously since Castle arrived home that morning once he'd collected his daughter at school. Fortunately, his mother had yet to leave for her morning errands, so he only needed to seek out one red-head.

For the first few hours, the three of them crowded on the loveseat in the office to watch the big screen television with a mixed amount of horror and disbelief. How could this be happening? How could it be happening again to New York?

In the first few hours, information was spotty at best. No one knew who was behind the attacks. No one knew how many more would be coming. Eye witnesses gave varying reports. What remained clear, though, was that whoever was responsible intended to do great damage and damage they had done.

Unlike a decade prior, practically every single person over the age of thirteen roaming the streets of New York was in possession of a cell phone with a camera. News outlets began playing shaky, scream-filled footage of vehicles exploding into giant fireballs, people running from gunfire, and the terrified faces of those hiding from the fray. Each time Castle saw a uniformed police officer in one of these videos he fought the urge to vomit.

Cell phone reception that day was intermittent at best. The news reported that various carriers shut off their service in the city to prevent any bombs from being detonated by phone. On the rare occasion he noticed he had reception, Castle attempted to call his partner, but the call was either dropped or it rang until he got her voicemail.

His only contact from her remained the text message he received shortly after ten a.m. during one of the first time his reception returned (albeit briefly). _Me too_. At first, the text confused him. Wrinkled brow, he excused himself from the couch and wandered to the kitchen. Was the text a mistake? Meant for someone else? Or, if it was meant for him, what would it be in reference too?

Then, after several minutes of staring, it hit him. _Me too_. One of the last things he had said to her was that he loved her and it was possible she was telling him that she loved him too. For a brief moment, his heart soared. They had a chance! If she loved him that meant she wanted to be with him and they had a chance! Then, the voice of his mother shouting, "Richard, come see this!" grounded him to reality.

As videos of NYPD cops clearing Wall Street of injured civilians played on the screen, Castle searched for a familiar face. He could not honestly decide if he wanted to see her to confirm that she was alive, or if seeing her in such a filthy, battered state would upset him more. Despite three pairs of eyes searching, Kate nor any of her colleagues from the twelfth were seen.

By late afternoon, the news reports became more consistent. The death toll stood at over one hundred and was predicted to grow as five-story apartment building had collapsed and it was not known how many residents remained trapped inside. Fortunately, though many other buildings and venues were damaged, that apartment building was the only to have fallen.

The five o'clock news reported the incident as a well-coordinated attack by domestic terrorists fueled both by hatred of the "one percent" as well as general disgruntlement with the government. Over half a dozen separate car bombs had been detonated, some much larger than others. As confusion from the bombs ran rampant, the terrorists took the streets, armed to the hilt, intent on killing as many as they could. Specifically, their assault targeted police and other first responders.

This news did not assuage Castle's worry in the least. If anything, it made him even more frantic to get ahold of one of his partners from the twelfth, but none were answering their phones. He called them each over and over and over again, but every time the call was put straight through to voice mail. After his third message to each of them, he stopped leaving voicemails and decided to distract himself by making dinner for his family.

Finally, at seven p.m. he heard a knock at his door and raced to open it. There, he discovered, a filthy, disheveled and exhausted looking Kate. Her chestnut tresses, typically streaked with honey and gold, were dusted over with murky brown and charcoal hues. In fact, those two colors coated her from head to toe. Her forehead, nose, and cheeks were practically caked with it. The NYPD jacket she wore splattered with filth and other substances he didn't wish to know about and her jeans and boots were almost unrecognizable.

But Richard Castle didn't care about any of that. All he cared about was the fact that his partner was standing in front of him. Breathing and walking on her own, not lying in a crumpled pile on the sidewalk like so many others.

"Kate!" He breathed out the tortured breath he'd been holding in for hours. "Oh thank god you're ok! I kept trying to call you but-"

"My phone," she cut him off, her tone as weary as he'd ever heard it, "…broke."

He smiled at her, reached out and grabbed her elbow, pulling her into the apartment. "That's okay; it doesn't matter. All that matters is that you're ok."

She stumbled inside slowly in an almost robotic manner. Her brain had been switched to auto-pilot many hours earlier and at that point only understood simple commands like walk forward, stop, or, most importantly, sit down. "Tried to get to my place…streets were blocked…so I…I hope you don't mind."

Though she eyed Castle cautiously, it was Martha who jumped into their conversation. She brushed past her son and guided the battered looking woman into their home while he shut the door behind her. "Don't be ridiculous, Darling. It's absolutely right that you came here. Now what can we get you? Food? Something to drink?"

She was silent for a moment, her gaze shifting between the smiling and far too cheerful for her current mindset mother and son. She could not recall the last time she ate or drank anything, but those two things were not at the top of her list. "Shower."

Castle's eyes widened. "Right yes of course. Come with me."

Without even thinking, he guided Kate into his bedroom and through to the master bath. True, the previous time she had stayed at his place and used his shower it had been upstairs in the guest area, but he did not want her to have to go that far. Besides, he honestly was not sure in what state his daughter had left the main bath. His bathroom, however, he knew to be clean. Besides, it had a better shower and tub.

Feeling like an animal on a leash but too exhausted to want to do anything about it, Kate allowed Castle to lead her through the bedroom with his hand gently cupping her elbow. He flicked on the bathroom lights and informed her that he would be right back. He disappeared, and returned a moment later with two fluffy steel gray towels. He smiled at her and set them on the bathroom counter.

Looking at him wide-eyed, she mumbled, "I…I don't…"

"What's that?" he asked, genuinely having not hard her, but instead of repeating what she said, she merely shook her head.

Castle felt the hairs at the back of his neck prickle uncomfortably as he looked into the eyes of his partner. They were as dead as he'd ever seen them. Not tired. Not upset. Not showing any distress at all. They were simply dead; void of any emotion or feeling and that terrified him more than he could ever say. After what she must have experienced that day, it was understandable, but he hoped after some sleep the emotion—the light—would return.

Clearing his throat, he began, "Well, I gave you fresh towels and oh." He stopped when he went to walk around behind her and instead caught a glimpse of something shiny at the back of her head. Examining a bit closer he concluded, "I think there's some glass in your hair. Let me help you so you don't cut yourself."

From the look of it, her hair was originally secured in a French braid, though now large chunks had fallen out. In addition to being coated with the find grey dust, pieces of debris also protruded from the braid, including the two inch long shard of glass Castle spotted. Without a clear view of the back of her head, he did not want Kate to accidentally cut her fingers open while washing her hair. He thought for a moment about how to remove the debris and then decided a comb would be best.

From the floor, he picked up his small bathroom trash can and he retrieved a wide-tooth comb from one of the vanity drawers. Standing behind her, he pulled out the rubber band that secured the end of her braid. He held a small trash can up at the middle of her back and used a comb to gently pick through her hair, allowing the larger debris pieces to fall in the garbage. When the glass fell out, he put the comb and trash can down and looked at her reflection in the mirror. She stared neither at him nor at herself, but merely gazed distantly towards the faucets.

"Here," he said, figuring a little assistance wouldn't upset her too much. "Let me help you with your jacket, too."

From his position behind her, he reached around her shoulders to pull the jacket open. It was already unzipped, so he merely needed to peel it from her shoulders. Dust began to flutter down to the tile bathroom floor as he slid the item off of her arms. Not sure what to do with it, he folded it so the outside edges were together and then folded it in half again, so as to keep the dirt on the inside.

Turning back to face her, Castle gasped. The green t-shirt she had been wearing earlier that day was almost completely shredded. Starting on her left side a few inches below the bottom edge of her bra going all the way down to the edge of the shirt and continuing across her back, the cloth was in tatters, the edges black with filth. "You're shirt…"

"It got caught…" She informed him distantly.

"It's okay." He assured her, keeping his tone light despite his internal dismay. Through the remains of the t-shirt, he could see she wore a tank beneath, so he reached down and pulled at what remained of the shirts hem. Silently, she lifted her arms and allowed him to pull the torn item off her body. Without a second though, he deposited it in the trash.

Now examining the rest of her, he could see the stains that lined her jeans from top to bottom. No sure exactly what they were, he wasn't positive they could be washed successfully, but he felt bad not trying, especially when she arrived without other clothes to change into. "Why…why don't I just pop your jeans in the laundry, okay? They'll be dry by morning. Your tank, too."

Kate nodded, though made no attempt to remove either item from her body.

Castle had expected her to remove them then and there, but then he foolishly remembered that he was probably the reason she remained dressed. He knew he should have left the room, but he did not want to abandon her if she still needed his assistance. The least he could do for her was assure the water the correct temperature for her. "Do you want to take a bath or a shower?"

For the first time since entering the bathroom, Kate's eyes fell upon her partner's face. Her body's autopilot feature was beginning to switch off as exhaustion poured over every cell. She doubted she would be able to stand much longer and in that respect a bath would have been preferable. However, given how filthy she recognized herself to be, she did not believe it would be hygienic to immerse herself in water, so she gestured limply towards the tile shower.

Castle smiled and gave his partner a nod in acknowledgement. He reached into the shower, cranked the water on as hot as it would go, and made sure there was shampoo and a bar of soap within reach. By the time he turned back around, Kate had divested herself of her tank and was in the process of pushing her jeans over her hips. Evidently, she was too exhausted to be concerned with modesty.

He scooped her tank from the floor and took her jeans when she handed them to him. He knew he shouldn't have, but he couldn't stop himself from observing her in her state of undress. (Though, since she still wore her bra and panties, he didn't feel _that_ guilty.) Just about the only part of her that wasn't filthy was the area between her panties and her knees. How so much of her was covered in the fine black dust despite the fact that she wore clothing baffled him.

As she walked towards the shower, he took two steps towards the bathroom door. "Let me know if you need anything, okay? And I'll set out some of my clothes for you to sleep in." He'd almost made it out the door when he heard her soft voice.

"Castle?"

He turned his neck back over her shoulder and saw her gazing at him from the edge of the shower. "Yeah?"

"Thank you."

He smiled, bobbed his head, and then walked out of the bathroom. After providing a t-shirt and pajama pants for his house guest he returned to the kitchen where he found his mother nursing a glass of red wine.

"God that poor girl," Martha proclaimed. "She looks dead on her feet."

Castle sighed heavily as his gaze drifted back towards his bedroom. "I know, but thank god she wasn't hurt." Then, looking down at his hands, he gestured with the filthy items in his fist. "Her clothes, I was going to wash them."

"Let me," Martha said, her hand closing over his as she took the items from him. "Why don't you get her something to eat?"

Walking further into the kitchen, Castle stopped by the refrigerator and thought. This was Kate and he knew her. If she was too busy she became distracted and forgot to eat, but then when she remembered, she would consume unimaginable amounts of food. That, however, was under normal circumstances. The level of exhaustion she appeared to be experiencing at present could not, he decided, be described as a typical situation. Instead, he thought it would be best to wait and ask her what she wanted.

Fifteen minutes later she emerged from his bedroom, damp hair hanging limp around her shoulders. She looked so adorable in his clothing so vastly oversized for her he could not help but smile softly. As she approached, he noticed her bare feet shuffling against the wooden floor. "Oh I'm sorry," he said, "I forgot to give you socks."

She looked up to meet his eye and spoke in a weary tone. "It's fine, Castle."

He smiled at her, taking a few steps so his elbow rested against the kitchen island. "What can I get you to eat?"

"Nothing."

"Kate," he spoke in a warning tone.

She shook her head. "No I'm fine. I had a little bit earlier. I just want to sleep. I'll go to the guest room?" She spoke as though it was more of a question than a statement. This was, after all, his home and she didn't want to intrude too much. Quite frankly, with the state of exhaustion she felt, she could have curled up on the rug in his office and fallen asleep.

"Ah." He cringed inwardly as he had not been anticipating a house guest. "I don't think there are sheets on that bed. Just take mine."

"Oh I don't-"

"Kate please." He cut her off before she could protest. "You look like you could fall over if I breathed on you too hard." Walking towards her, he placed a gentle hand on her upper back to turn her around. He led the way into the bedroom and retrieved a pair of socks for her. Then, turning back to the bed, he tossed back the covers of the side furthest from the door and gestured to the open space with a smile. She shuffled past him, taking the socks as she went, and sat down on the edge of the mattress to put them on.

Castle stood by her knees, his thighs gently bumping the folded back covers. "I don't think you're ready to talk about it, but when you are…" He wanted to make sure she knew that he, her partner, would be there for her whenever she needed him.

Kate looked up to him. "I know."

He nodded down to her and smiled. "If there's anything you need just-" He stopped speaking when, much to his surprise, she reached out and grabbed his hand. He looked down at their touching fingers and then back up at her, curious.

Tentatively, she raised her eye-line to his. "I…will you stay?"

"Wha...I…are you sure?" he stammered.

She nodded, shut her eyes, and began to sink down under the sheets. "Mm…you make me feel safe…"

Her tone was meek and, quite frankly, he couldn't believe she had said those words. His only rationalization was to guess that she was so exhausted she didn't really know what she was saying. But, as long as she was asking…

"Of course, Kate; of course." He promised. "Just let me turn off the lights so you can sleep."

Kate nodded slowly and reclined back against the pillows. Castle tossed the blankets over her before turning off the lamp by that side of her bed. He walked into the office and turned off his desk lamp so it would not shine through the bookshelves. Then, he shut the door to the office and crossed the room to shut the door leading to the hall. By the time he'd completed these tasks and turned back to the bed, Kate was already asleep.

For several moments, Castle watched her. Finally, her face was not wrought with distress or pain; she was relaxed. He hoped that sleep brought her clarity and, if nothing else, a few hours of peace.

Crossing to the bathroom, Castle shut the door before turning on the light so as not to wake his sleeping partner. He ran his hands over his face and shook his head. After not sleeping well the night before and the stress of that day, he was exhausted as well, but he had enough strength left to get himself ready for bed.

Looking around the room he found that Kate was a very polite house guest, which was particularly impressive given her near zombie-like state. She hung her used towels on the bathroom towel racks and had kept the countertop neat. In fact, the only indication she had used the bathroom at all were two items draped over the top of the shower door: her bra and panties. From the look of it, she must have rinsed them both out and hung them to dry.

At the sight of them, Castle froze. Kate's bra was in his bathroom. Kate's _panties_ were in his bathroom. This led him to the conclusion that beneath the pajamas he provided her she wore nothing.

_Oh god, don't think about that!_ He coached himself.

He turned to face the sink and picked up his toothbrush. When he lifted his head, his eye line was drawn directly to the reflection of the shower door in the mirror. _Damn it, Castle! Do not look at her panties. You are not allowed to look at Kate's panties. Or think about them!_

Of course, in telling himself that, he practically guaranteed that he could think about nothing but her undergarments the whole time he brushed his teeth. Fortunately, by the time he was done, he forgot about them, and returned to the bedroom. He stripped down to his boxers and t-shirt before gingerly slipping into bed so as not to wake his sleeping companion. Once settled, he closed his eyes and fell almost immediately to sleep.


	3. Chapter 3

**Part Three**

Richard Castle was having the strangest dream. He was alone on the streets of Manhattan, wandering around. Across the street in front of him, trash blew like tumbleweeds in the desert. It wasn't too hot or too cold. In fact, his walk was quite pleasant until the shaking began. The whole street rattled beneath his feet. His knees buckled and his feet scraped against the concrete sidewalk as he attempted to move forward. He turned and tried to run, but as though the sidewalk had become a treadmill, he traveled nowhere. Finally, the shaking became so violent that he opened his eyes and gasped.

"Castle? Oh, I'm sorry."

The soft voice of his partner hit his ear as the world became clear again. He wasn't on the sidewalk, but lying in his bed. And there wasn't an earthquake; it was just Kate shaking the mattress.

Kate. Kate was in his bed.

"Hmm? Whatsit? What 'zat?" he mumbled sleepily as her face slowly came in to view. She still remained in his t-shirt and pajama pants, but it appeared she had put her bra back on, which was fortunate (unfortunate?) because in her position hovering over him he could see directly down the V-neck of the shirt she wore. Lifting his gaze to her face, he saw that, thankfully, her eyes were no longer as dead as the night before. They were far from holding their typical luster, but they had certainly brightened.

"I'm sorry to wake you," she told him softly, "but I need my pants back."

Castle yawned. "Well, I've never heard that sentence before."

"Castle."

Her annoyed tone was enough to rouse him and he pushed himself into a sitting position. "Yeah, sorry…I'm up…getting up…" He swung his feet over the edge of the bed and looked around the room. It was still very dark; if he was not mistaken the sun had not yet risen. "What…time is it?"

"Just before six," she informed him.

He craned his neck to the side and blinked at her. "Why are you awake?"

"I only had twelve hours off; I have to be back on duty by 6:30."

Castle considered this a moment. This made sense given the hour at which she arrived at his apartment the night before, but still he could hardly believe it. Despite eight hours of sleep he still didn't feel awake. If he had been in her position, he would have wanted at least ten hours or more to begin to feel human again.

Still confused he asked, "_How_ are you awake?"

She looked guilty as she pulled a small rectangular item from the nightstand. "Woke up around midnight and stole your phone and set the alarm. Sorry," she added, pasting it back to him.

He took the item, but shook his head. "No 'sokay. Let me make you coffee. You want eggs or something?"

"No I don't have time."

Considering this, he posed his next suggestion. "I have PopTarts."

"Okay."

Yawning once more, Castle shuffled his way out of the bedroom, across the hall, and through the kitchen to the adjoining laundry area. There, Kate's jeans and tank top hung on a drying rack. Fortunately, they both appeared to have dried overnight. While some stains remains on her jeans, they had vastly improved in appearance.

Kate took the clothes from her partner and thanked him before returning to the bedroom to change. After she walked away, Castle went into the kitchen, started a pot of coffee and retrieved two boxes of PopTarts from the pantry: cherry and brown sugar cinnamon. He set them both on the counter so Kate could choose whichever she preferred.

A few minutes later she returned wearing her tank and jeans, carrying her NYPD jacket in her hands. "Guess this should have been washed too," she commented with a laugh.

Immediately, Castle felt guilty. "Oh I'm sorry I didn't-"

She held up her hand to stop him. "No, Castle please. You did more than enough. Could I have a paper towel? I'll just wipe it off; it's not like I won't get dirty again today."

Castle nodded and handed her a roll of paper towels. She dampened one under the kitchen faucet and began wiping off the shoulders and arms of the jacket. Of course, given how filthy it was, the towel quickly blackened so she threw it out and got another. Four towels later, the jacket was reasonably cleaner, so she slipped it on.

"Oh," she frowned when her hand slid into her pocket. From it, she pulled her iPhone, the screen clearly shattered. "I guess I don't need this anymore."

His vision a bit clear after a few sips of coffee, Castle approached her and examined the phone cautiously. He took it from her and his eyes widened with horror when he saw the screen had not been shattered from being dropped. Instead, a crumpled metal object was imbedded in the glass. "What…is this a bullet?" he asked, his stomach flipping over in his gut.

"I think. I don't know. It was in the pocket of my vest."

"But that's supposed to be bullet proof!" he insisted with a squeak.

"Between my skin and the vest, not the outside of the vest and the pocket," she clarified.

He realized his mistake and nodded. Still, this did not assuage his horror in any way. He didn't want bullets anywhere near Kate, least of all close enough to damage her phone. The more he thought about Kate's safety, he realized he hadn't been able to ask about their other colleagues. "Have you heard from anyone else? Yesterday, I mean. Ryan? Esposito?"

Kate poured coffee into the travel mug Castle had provided her before plucking a packet of brown sugar cinnamon PopTarts from their box. "Yeah…Ryan's ok, but Espo was burned, apparently." She looked up to see the skin on the writer's face fade a few shades. "Ryan said it's just one of his legs so it's not life threatening or anything…"

"God," he commented, swallowing hard.

She lowered her eyes towards her feet. "Hastings was killed, though. I don't know about anyone else." They exchanged glances before she pushed herself away from the counter. "I should get going."

He followed her. "What will you do?"

She walked towards the entry way to pick up her shoes. "Help ID bodies…crowd control…I don't know—whatever they need from me."

He nodded. "Will you come back tonight? Please? I'll have warm dinner waiting."

She smiled softly. "Thanks, Castle, but that really isn't-"

"Kate." He cut her off with the simple shake of her head.

"Yeah, okay," she agreed.

Seeing her fold beneath her still tired exterior made him smile. He walked over to the table nearest the door and pulled out the top drawer. From it, he plucked a keychain and passed it over to his partner. "Here. Spare keys. Just come back whenever you can, okay?"

She took them and nodded. "Thanks Castle. For everything."

He nodded back and tried not to let his heart break as he watched her walk out the door.

* * *

Fortunately, on Thursday Castle did not have to go the entire day without hearing from Kate. In fact, he only had to go a few hours. Shortly before ten he received a text message from an unknown number, but it turned out to be from Kate, who was using a temporary phone until she could receive a new one programmed with her number. He texted back a thank you message, telling her to stay safe and contact him if she needed anything.

For the rest of the day Castle paced his office and tried very unsuccessfully to complete his _Heat_ outline. He did feel he put in a reasonable effort, but he simply faced too many distractions. Alexis was home from school and his mother was in the apartment as well, both of them milling around, waking in and out of his study. It was difficult enough to focus in their presence, but with the news playing reports of survivors being pulled from the downed apartment building, it was even harder.

Finally, at five p.m. Castle gave up all together and decided to turn his attention to dinner. He was going to use what they had in their refrigerator, freezer and pantry to create as delectable and gourmet meal as he possibly could for Kate when she arrived. Granted, he had no idea when she would be arriving, which made his meal planning a bit more complex, but he hoped it would be around seven, just like the night before. This seemed like a reasonable guess to him since he knew her shift had begun at six-thirty that morning.

Just as he was putting the finishing touches on their meal, Castle was elated to hear a key grinding in the lock of the front door. As his mother and daughter stood in front of him, that meant only one person could be joining their meal. Kate had arrived and was actually earlier than he expected.

She walked in looking significantly better than she had the day before. For the most part, she looked clean and in reasonable spirits, all things considered. She even had a duffle bag slung over her shoulder, which she dropped by the front door before greeting his mother and daughter with hugs.

"You poor dear. You must be exhausted. Can I get you some wine?" Martha asked, hurrying forward to guide Kate to the kitchen.

"Sure, just a small glass, though," Kate requested.

Martha arched an eyebrow. "Are you sure you don't mean extra-large?" Kate offered the smallest of smiles to the elder woman before taking a seat at the Castle family dinner table.

"So how was your day?" Alexis asked brightly. Then, when Kate flashed her a blank expression, the girl cringed. "I mean, I'm sorry. I hope it wasn't awful?" she said, phrasing it more of a question than a statement.

"It was fine, Alexis; thank you for asking," Kate returned politely.

"Did you hear anything about Esposito?" Castle asked as he joined the women at the table.

After taking a sip of her wine, she nodded. "Yes, I spoke with him on the phone. He was on a lot of pain meds, but you know Espo—he said he'd be out of the hospital in a day," she said, shooting her partner a soft smile. "But, really, it'll be a while. He needs a skin graph on his calf and then he'll need some rehab, but he should recover well."

"Well that certainly is good news," Martha told her.

"And I was able to see Ryan today at the twelfth. He's doing ok…a bit shook up because one of his academy classmates was killed, but all things considered he's fine," Kate continued.

At Alexis's suggestion, they tried to stick to lighter topics over dinner, but ended up being unsuccessful as their conversation line always ended up back at the prior day's tragedies. After their meal, Alexis excused herself to finish up homework, while Kate insisted on helping with clean up. Castle tried to tell her to relax, but she insisted, saying she wanted to do something simple that would keep her mind busy; otherwise, she would collapse.

"So, I see you brought a bag…" Castle pointed out once the kitchen was back to pristine shape.

She glanced towards the entry way. "Yes, I…I was able to get back to my place around lunchtime to check on things and grab some clothes."

"And everything was ok there?" he asked.

She nodded. "Yeah, it was fine. I…ah, I guess I should go to the guest room?"

As her comment was phrased more like a question, Castle smiled at her. "Do you want to go to the guest room?" That morning his mother had put fresh linens on the bed and made sure the room was ready for her, but selfishly Castle hoped she didn't choose to spend the night in the spare bed. He liked spending the prior night in bed with her and had a feeling the second night would be even better as neither of them would be quite so bone-tired.

Though she didn't say anything, a soft smile did cross Kate's face and she allowed her gaze to drift back towards Castle's bedroom. That was the only sign he needed. Fighting the urge to skip, he led the way into his space. As she followed, he craned his neck over his shoulder and asked, "Do you want to watch a movie or something? Something really mindless and stupid like _Dumb and Dumber_…"

"As nice as that sounds, Castle, I honestly don't know if I can stay awake for another hour and a half. Rain check?"

He smiled at her. "Of course. Anytime, Kate."

She looked over at him, then down at the bag in her hands, and back up at him while biting on her bottom lip. Sensing she wanted to say something but couldn't get the words out, he asked what she was thinking. She set her bag down at the foot of the bed and said, "Can I tell you something?"

In an almost giddy way he reminded her, "Always."

"I…I almost stayed at my place tonight. I probably should have, but… I was afraid in the dark and the quiet it would all hit me and I didn't want to be alone."

Castle sat on the edge of his bed and considered her words. A confession like that was a weighty one from Kate. First, the fact that she acknowledged she preferred his presence to being alone was a huge admission from her, but it was not the one that stood out the most to Castle. Her comment about all of it—the emotions, the trauma—hitting her gnawed at his gut.

"Kate," he began gently, "I'm glad you came here but…have you let any of this hit you yet?"

She shook her head and sat beside him. "No. I feel like it should have. I feel like I should have cried or broken down, but I just have to keep going for now."

He looked down and saw her hands clasped in her lap. Placing his atop them, he said, "Don't bottle it up, Kate."

"I won't," she replied. Then, at his skeptical expression added, "I'll try not to."

They sat silently for several moments before she continued, "It's just…it's all so different than 9/11. And not just different because I'm actually experience it instead of watching it on television. It is different. These people…god, you should have seen them, Castle. Fires and bombs around them. Gunfire. And there they were just standing in the middle of the street filming it with their iPhones. They weren't running and filming—they were just filming. I mean, who does that?"

"Desensitized youth of America?" he offered.

She scoffed. "Apparently. And as a cop it makes me so angry. I have to risk my life to save you and you're being an idiot. Who doesn't run _away_ from gunfire?!"

Castle moved his hand from atop her to around her shoulders. "I'm sorry, Kate; people are idiots, but I think we kind of already knew that."

"Yeah, I guess we did," she said with a mirthless laugh. Without any hesitation, she leaned her head against Castle's shoulder and shut her eyes. Feeling his warmth around her drew her even closer to sleep that she anticipated and she felt her body going limp. Before she could nod off, though, she opened her eyes and looked up at him. "I'm just gonna…" she said before nodding to the bathroom.

"Sure, go to bed." He stood off the bed and walked to the office door, pausing once he was there to turn back and smile, "Sleep well, Kate."

* * *

Castle awoke in the middle of the night confused as he always was as to the time. He squinted at the clock beside his bed and found it was just after one in the morning meaning he had only been asleep for little more than an hour. Great—he hated when that happened.

Rolling gently to his back, he turned his head towards the center of the bed. In the dim light of the room he sensed the other side of the bed was empty, but just to be sure he skimmed his hand across the space. When his flesh contacted nothing but bare sheets and a pillow, he propped himself up on his elbows. "Mmm Kate?" he mumbled out.

"Here," came her soft reply. "In the chair."

Her voice, he realized, came from the chair on the other side of the bed up against the wall. Pushing himself into a sitting up position he switched on the bedside lamp at its lowest setting. After blinking his eyes to adjust to the light, he spotted her, feet resting on the chair's edge, knees pulled up to her chest, arms wrapped around her shins. She looked so small sitting there; it made him the slightest bit sad.

Fighting a yawn he asked. "Whaddaya doing there?"

"Couldn't sleep," she confessed. "I've been thinking about things."

"About yesterday? What you saw?" he guessed.

"Yes. No. I was thinking about us."

"Us?"

She looked over to him. "Yeah. We're sharing a bed, isn't that weird?"

He shook his head, not understanding her. "Why would it be weird?"

Her mouth twisted to the side and her brow wrinkled as it often did when she was staring too long at the murder board. "It should be weird, shouldn't it?"

"I think it would be weird if it was weird."

She cocked her head to the side. "That makes no sense."

Leaning his forearms on his thighs he said, "Sure it does. It's not like we're strangers that just met. We're close…ish." He thought it best to soften his statement with the "ish" part, as he was not sure how serious of a conversation she wanted to have in the middle of the night. As it turned out, that thought worked in his favor, because for the first time in days she laughed a real laugh with her eyes crinkling and a smile spreading across her face.

"Close-ish," she repeated. Close-ish; that was certainly one way to put it.

Smiling softly he confirmed, "Right."

Kate thought about their bed-sharing situation as she had been for the past twenty minutes and her smile began to fade. They were close—more than just close-ish—but what did that even mean? Three and a half years, dozens of cases. Arguments. Full blown fights. Disagreements. Laughter. Friendship.

Partners. They were partners, but after everything they'd been through that word hardly had the same definition as it had even a year earlier. Tentatively, she looked up at him. "We're close-ish, but we've never kissed."

Castle's eyes widened at this statement from her. He wasn't sure what struck him more: the atypical boldness from his partner or the fact that her statement was absolutely untrue. "Yes we have."

She thought back to that undercover night nearly a year earlier. "Well, not really."

Offended, he turned his body to face hers. "You didn't think that was real?"

"No," she said quickly. "I did. I mean…it's just…" What did she mean? What was she trying to say? Skimming her fingertip against her forehead she muttered out, "I was with Josh and Ryan and Espo…"

"The kiss didn't have great timing," he concluded for her. She nodded her head. Castle thought for a moment before suggesting, "Well, we could always do it again. I'm game if you are," he added with the hint of a smirk.

Kate looked over at him, wringing her hands together in her lap as her chest tightened. She wanted to kiss him. God, did she want to kiss him. After everything that had happened over the prior day and a half: being shot at, having to experience everything without him, dragging burned, mangled bodies off the sidewalk—it could not be said that her emotions were not running high. Couple that with the bank robbery bomb incident from the week prior and it was hard to imagine her not being a complete basket case, at least, when it came to her emotions. But maybe all of that was good, she decided. Maybe it was the push they needed.

Unfolding herself from the chair, Kate crossed over to the bed. She knelt down in front of her pillow and sat back on her heels, her body just a few inches from Castle's. "For the record," she began softly, "I'm not kissing you because I think it's weird that we're sharing a bed without kissing-"

"Seriously," he said, leaning away from her. "Why do you think that's so weird?" He couldn't for the life of him figure out why that of all things was a delineator.

She shrugged. "I've never done it before."

"Really?"

"No."

"Why?"

"I don't know. Why would I have?" When, she asked herself, would she have ever had the occasion to share a bed with a man whom she had not kissed? She couldn't think of any scenario besides the present one.

"Fair point." He conceded. Then, he opened his mouth to continue his thought but she stopped him.

"Castle."

"What?"

"Do you want to distract me or do you want to kiss me?" she asked with her oh-so-perfect Kate Beckett single eyebrow raise.

Castle grinned; the answer to that question was completely obvious, though he could not say he was disappointed in the momentary distraction; it did lessen his nerves slightly. "Sorry."

She continued, her voice returning to its previous soft tone. "As I was saying, I'm not kissing you because of the whole sharing the bed thing."

"Then," he said, inching his face towards hers. "Why are you kissing me?"

"Because you told me you loved me." With that, she placed her hands on his shoulders and pressed her lips against his.

Using his arms around her back to pull her in, Castle kissed her. And kissed her again. And then again. And, God, this was what he was meant to do; he had been put on earth to kiss Kate Beckett. And love her. And hold her. And brightened her darkest moments.

As their kissing grew more heated, Kate scooted closer to him and swung one knee over his hips so that she sat in his lap facing him. She moaned into his mouth when he slipped his hands beneath her t-shirt. When they slid high enough for him to realize she wore no bra, he groaned in return. Only when their hips began grinding together did Kate pull back for a brief moment of rational thought.

"We probably shouldn't do this," she said breathily.

Seeing absolutely no facts to support that argument, he panted out, "Why?"

"Because," she spoke which was difficult given the assault of his lips on her throat. "Time of crisis. Not thinking clearly. We haven't talked about—god, Castle—other things."

Castle tore his lips away from his partner's pulse point and looked up at her. Her lips were plump from their kisses and she gazed down at him with pure adoration. He wanted her then more than ever, but would respect whatever decision she made. "Do you want to stop?"

She smiled at him. "No." Then, she reached over and switched off the lamp before returning her lips to his.

It took Castle only a millisecond to pull her t-shirt up and over her head, forcing their lips to separate, albeit briefly. With the item gone, he could not resist the urge to skim his hands across her chest and cup her breasts as his lips began to travel southward. Kate moaned out his name and raked her fingers through the hair at the base of his neck while his lips attacked her flesh.

When he flipped her over so that she lay on her back and his body covered hers she breathed in sharply. It was all too much. His lips on hers. His hot breath skimming across her flesh. His strong arms around her. The feelings welled in her chest until she couldn't control them or hold them in. They spilled out as she pulled him in, wrapping her arms around him. "I love you."

Hearing those three little words from her stopped Castle's kisses just above her belly button. A slow smile crossed his face. She loved him. He loved her. And he was going to prove it.


	4. Chapter 4

**Part Four**

The next morning, Castle awoke with a start. The bed was shaking. Was the bed shaking? Or had he dreamed it?

Blinking, he slowly looked around the room. Everything seemed normal. The sunlight was just beginning to peak through the bookcases. Ambient sounds of the city streets could be heard around them. And soft gentle breathing could be heard beside him.

Kate.

Glancing to his right Castle spotted her, arm lazily draped beside his stomach. Her face was smashed into the space between their pillows and one of her bare breasts pressed up against his arm. He decided then if he was dreaming he never wanted to wake up.

Castle shut his eyes and let his mind drift back to the previous night when they'd made love. That was certainly not an event he would soon forget. However, before he could take too much of a trip down memory lane his bliss was interrupted by his mother bursting into his bedroom and calling out his name.

"Richard! Get up! Get up!"

"Mother!" he half gasped-half shouted, scrambling for blankets to cover himself and his equally naked bed companion. At least he knew for sure he wasn't dreaming; he was definitely having a nightmare.

Beside him, a startled yet still half a sleep Kate moved to sit up but then quickly covered her chest with her arms.

Martha averted her eyes. "Oh my goodness Katherine I am so sorry but it's happening again – bombs!"

"Did you hear an explosion?" Kate asked, glancing between the woman and her bed companion. "More than one?"

"I don't know…I thought…I don't…"

"It's okay, Mother." Castle spoke gently to the clearly shaken woman. "Just…just go sit in the living room, let us get dressed."

"Yes, yes of course."

Once she had vanished and shut the door behind her, Castle looked to Kate and apologized.

"'s not your fault." She assured him. "Did you hear an explosion?"

"I think something woke me up, yes, but I don't know what it was," he told her. She nodded and then slid from the bed to gather up her clothing. On his side of the bed, Castle found her shirt and tossed it to her. She thanked him, clutched all the items close to her body and tip-toed her way into the bathroom.

Five minutes later, they emerged and met Martha and Alexis in the kitchen. The still sleepy teen asked what was going on, but the adults confessed they didn't know. "I'm going to go in," Kate said. "I'll let you know what I find out."

"Can I help?" Castle offered. "With anything, I mean."

Kate smiled softly and ran her hand across his arm. "Just stay here; I'll contact you as soon as I can."

Then, after bidding goodbye to the other members of the Castle clan, Kate scooped up her bag and headed out the door. Turning back to his family, Castle smiled reassuringly. "I'm sure everything's fine."

Martha eyed him skeptically for a moment before a slow smile crossed her face. "So…you and Katherine."

Castle groaned. "Mother…"

"What about them?" Alexis asked. Castle gave his daughter a tentative look so she looked at her grandmother. Apparently, that was all she needed to catch the implication. "Oh god, you guys came out of the same bedroom…oh, ew I don't want to hear about this!" she proclaimed before scurrying out of the room.

Once she was gone, Castle looked back to his mother and saw she was smiling suspiciously at him. "What?" he grumbled.

"Don't deny it, Richard."

"I'm not denying it, but Beckett and I haven't talked about it yet. It just sort of…happened."

Martha smiled wider. "I'm sure it did."

Castle covered his face with his hands. "Please, mother; it's too early for this…"

* * *

Fortunately, the Castle family did not have to wait too long to hear about the events of that morning. An hour later, Kate texted him to tell him there had been an explosion in a gas line near one of the bomb sites. While there had been some injuries, it was completely accidental; not relating to terrorists. This made the two women in his life feel much better and they were able to continue with their day.

Half an hour after the first text, Kate texted him again and asked him to meet her at the Twelfth. All too eager to help, Castle hurried to dress in suitable attire and then practically ran to the elevator in the building. Once on the ground floor, he hurried onto the street to hail a cab but froze just outside the entrance. This was the first time since the attacks forty-eight hours earlier that he had left his apartment. He knew that his trip to the precinct would not take him near any of the bombing sites (not that he could go near them if he wanted) but still, it was different. Once again, everything in Manhattan had changed.

At the Twelfth, Castle found his first signs that things were slowly returning to normal. Scary looking men guarded by uniformed officers sat handcuffed in the halls. He was greeted with smiles and hellos as he disembarked from the elevator and Kate Beckett sat at her desk. Finally, a scene he recognized.

Though he made to join Kate in his usual spot beside her, he was intercepted by Ryan, who greeted him with a manly hug. Castle inquired on Esposito and received more or less the same story he'd heard from Kate the night before. After commenting that he'd try to get to the hospital to visit as soon as he could, he greeted his partner with a smile and, most importantly, coffee.

"I'm pretty sure Starbucks would be open even if a nuclear bomb went off," he said as he took his usual seat.

Scooping up her cup, Kate nodded to him. "Let's hope we never get to verify that."

Castle mirrored her nod. "So what's going on this morning? Murder? God, I hope not."

She shook her head. "No, actually-"

"Ah, Mr. Castle." Their conversation was interrupted by Captain Gates, who approached them both with her glasses balanced at the bridge of her nose. Castle stood immediately to greet her. She nodded to him. "I never thought I'd say this, but I'm glad Detective Beckett was able to get a hold of you."

"Oh?" he responded, shifting his gaze between the captain and his partner.

"As you may have heard, the events of Wednesday morning left us with dozens of victims we have yet to be able to identify. In order to complete this task, we're asking detectives to search through the victim's clothing and personal effects in an attempt to identify them. This isn't always an easy task and sometimes requires quite a bit of research."

"I'm excellent at research!" Castle chimed in, a bright smile crossing his face.

The captain nodded slowly. "Typically only law enforcement officers handle these tasks, but given how short staffed we are this is a bit of a unique situation."

"I'd be happy to help in any way I can, Captain," he assured her.

"Uh, Castle," Kate chimed in, wanting to make sure her partner knew what he was volunteering for. "These aren't just murder victims. Some of them have been blown up. For some of them we only…we only have pieces."

He gave her a small, sad smile. "I understand; I just want to help."

"And your help will be greatly appreciated," the captain added. Then, after nodding to Kate, she walked into her office.

After joining up with Ryan, the trio departed the precinct and headed across town to the warehouse where all the victims were being staged. If Castle had not figured out what he had signed up for, he got a pretty good idea of it the moment he walked in to the giant room to find dozens of bodies laid out in rows across the warehouse. There, they met up with Lanie, who gave them protective gear and instructions.

For six hours, Castle examined bodies and parts of bodies side-by-side with Kate and Ryan. They matched up clothing and skin tones on limbs and torsos. Once they had as much of a person as they thought they could gather, they began using what they had in clothing pockets or on the body itself to identify the victims. The men who carried wallets were easy to identify, but the women and children took much more time.

Though emotionally it was some of the hardest work he'd ever done, Castle felt proud of himself when their shift had ended. He'd helped identify eight victims, which meant he was able to provide closure to eight families. Closure they might never had if not for the dedication of all the officers (and volunteers) involved.

After returning to the precinct briefly, Kate and Castle went to visit Esposito in the hospital. Much to their mutual surprise, he was in very good spirits (and not just because of the pain meds he was on, as Castle teased). Upon leaving, the picked up takeout for dinner and brought it back to Kate's apartment.

"Today was a good day," Castle said as they sat and ate. "I mean, it was awful seeing all those victims, but being able to help, not feel useless…"

"I know what you mean," Kate nodded to him.

"So, ah, as long as we're both completely exhausted and emotionally drained…let's talk about last night," he said with a teasing smile.

Her lips curled. "Last night was nice; really nice."

"It was, though I'm sensing a 'but' coming."

She shook her head slightly. "Not a but, not exactly. Just… a confession." When she saw she had his full attention, she continued. "Before we go any further with our relationship, there's something you need to know: I remember what happened the day I was shot. Everything that happened. Including what you said to me just before I passed out."

Castle dropped his hands to his lap as he leaned away from her, his brow furrowing. "You remember?"

She nodded. "I'm sorry that I hid it from you, but I was trying to process everything that happened and I just…couldn't. If I could do it over, I'd handle it differently, especially the summer we spent apart, but…but I need you to know the truth. I remember and I don't want to pretend I didn't—not anymore. I…I've been seeing a therapist. We've been taking through things—I've been trying to figure out how to bring my walls down so we could…so we could be together."

Castle considered this wealth of information from her. Though his knee-jerk reaction was to be upset with her for lying, her explanation did soften his emotions slightly. Her explanation and his exhaustion. "I'd venture to guess that your walls have been pretty non-existent for the past few days."

She let out a light laugh. "They have been…ever since the bank robbery, actually."

Castle chewed on his bottom lip as another thought entered his mind: he had not been entirely honest with her. Leaning in, he reached his hand across the table and placed it on hers. Locking gazes with her, he spoke slowly, "As long as we're confessing things…there's something I should tell you."

Kate's shoulders tensed as Castle told her the story of Mr. Smith and how it related to her mother's murder. When he was finished, her initial thought was that he was lucky she was a bit too exhausted to be furious with him. She pursed her lips together. "We get through this—all the aftermath of the bombings—and then promise me you'll tell me everything you know about my mother's case."

He remained silent for a moment as he considered her proposal. "I will tell you what I know, but I can't let you investigate, Kate. You heard what I said—Smith said they'll kill you if you do. I can't lose you, Kate; I love you."

She turned her eyes towards the table. "I know."

"And you love me too, right?" he asked, his tone a bit more tentative. "You said it last night…you don't want to take it back do you?"

She shook her head before answering, "No, but I do want to take things slow. Let's do this right, Castle, because…despite everything that's happened at the end of the day you're the one I want to be with."

He smiled and squeezed her hand. "Ditto." Then, using his hand on hers, he pulled her from her seat and into a warm hug. She melted into his chest and locked her arms around his back. He held her close for several moments, rocking them gently back and forth, before his eyes popped open and he said, "Oh god."

Noting the concern in his voice, Kate pulled back and looked at him. "What? What happened?"

His face relaxed and he shook his head. "Nothing. It's nothing."

"No, Castle, what is it?"

With no small amount of self-loathing he confessed, "It's just…I realized that I'm so disgustingly in love with you that in my head I actually thought that hug was just as good as the sex."

Kate laughed, though she wasn't sure what she found more amusing: his sentiments or the hateful way he expressed them. "Well, honestly, I guess I was kind of thinking the same thing." With that, she stood up on her toes and kissed him. "How about that?"

"Mmm," he sighed, kissing her again. "Also very good, but we should probably have sex again to be sure."

"Ooo how romantic," she teased. Then, before he could say anything else, she grabbed his hand and pulled him into the bedroom.

* * *

_A/N: Thank you all so much for reading! I think I'm going to have one more mini-fic to post before the big one **Castle &amp; Beckett: Homicide** later this spring._

_I hope everyone enjoys the Castle Season &amp; two-parter!_


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